


My Sunflower

by RainyMeadows



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series, 逆転裁判 | Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: Flowers, Fluff, Language of Flowers, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, laywright is so goddamn underrated you guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:41:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25105627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainyMeadows/pseuds/RainyMeadows
Summary: Des is confused. Who on earth lives in LA that his brother could be sending flowers to? Loosely tied to The Families of Jean Descole.
Relationships: Hershel Layton/Naruhodou Ryuuichi | Phoenix Wright
Comments: 12
Kudos: 63





	My Sunflower

Des watched his brother groan as he stretched his shoulders.

“There we are,” he said as he closed the browser. “All done.”

He closed the laptop and passed it back.

“I’d still very much like to know what you were doing,” Des told him.

“Well, you can continue liking to know,” said Hershel, indignantly crossing his arms, “because I’m not going to tell you.”

“Why not?”

“After the way you mocked me when you discovered my taste in music, I think I’m entitled to a little privacy.”

Des shrugged.

“I suppose that’s fair,” he decided, “but do remember this is _my_ laptop you were using, and even outside of that…”

He quirked an eyebrow.

“You _never_ use computers,” he pointed out. “You and I both know you haven’t sent an email since 2004! Whatever kind of purpose would you have for my laptop?”

“As I think has been made clear by now,” Hershel replied as he stood up, “it isn’t any of your business.”

He leaned to stretch his back.

“In any case,” he said, “it’s getting late, so I think I’ll make my way to bed. Don’t stay up too late.”

“I _won’t,_ ” Des replied. “Goodnight, Hershel.”

He waited until the shorter man had left the room.

And then, with a coy little smile, he opened his laptop again and started up the browser.

If there was anything he could count on Hershel for, it was that he would be tech-illiterate to the point of not knowing what private browsing was.

He navigated to the History and quickly found the most recent page to have been opened. Some site called Blooming Marvellous. Curious, Des thought, and he clicked on that link to see what was going on.

It was an online flower delivery service. Their front page was plastered with adverts for bouquets of various sizes and levels of showiness.

And this page was signed into an account.

Hershel had an account. For a _flower shop._

Still curious, Des found his way to the order history.

Somehow this wasn’t his brother’s first time on this site. He had been coming here… it looked like once per year, always on the same date, and he always made the same purchase every single time.

A bouquet of sunflowers and roses.

Des frowned. Judging by the URL and the pricing on all of these orders, this was an American-based service. Not only that, but every single one of these bouquets was getting delivered to a place in Los Angeles!

And every time, the roses in the bouquet were a different colour. Two years ago, they had been a pleasant shade of salmon pink. Before then, light pink. Last year, they were yellow, but the petals were tipped with red. This year, however, the roses were brilliant red.

Frowning, Des opened a fresh tab and searched for “rose colour meanings”.

Light pink was admiration.

Salmon pink, sometimes dubbed coral pink, was desire.

Yellow edged with red signified falling in love.

And Des didn’t even need to keep reading to know what a red rose meant.

Always mixed with sunflowers. Always sent to the same location. Every single year.

Hershel Layton was sending flowers to a person he was in love with. Who lived in _Los Angeles?_

Des’ frown deepened as he closed the browser and his laptop, and he slipped the computer under his arm to make his way up to bed.

He and his brother were going to have a _remarkably_ interesting conversation tomorrow morning.

* * *

“Hey, Boss!”

Phoenix looked up from his case file.

“What is it, Athena?” he asked. “Need help with your paperwork?”

“ _Always,_ ” Athena groaned, “but that’s not what I wanted to talk about. You just got a delivery!”

“A delivery?” Phoenix felt taken aback. He hadn’t been expecting a package or a magazine or anything of the sort. Had Trucy sent for a new prop?

No, this delivery was for _him._

Was it…?

Oh, it was _today,_ wasn’t it?

“Here.” Athena brought a flourishing bouquet into view. “I didn’t read the card, but it’s addressed to you personally!”

A stunning display of roses and sunflowers, the gaps between them filled with cute little white daisies, and Phoenix felt his cheeks grow warm at the sight of them.

“Thank you,” he told Athena, gently taking the arrangement from her hands.

“Who could’ve sent these to you?” Athena asked, and suddenly she smiled. “Could there be a potential Mrs Wright somewhere out there?”

Phoenix gave a nervous chuckle.

“I’m not sure about that,” he said, taking the card from where it was nestled, “but who knows? Maybe Trucy might get a second parent someday.”

The satisfied Athena returned to her desk, and Phoenix set the bouquet beside the rainbow of birthday cards he’d already opened so far.

He opened the bouquet card to read the little message, and he couldn’t help but smile quietly to himself as he read.

_Dearest Phoenix_

_Hoping you have a splendid day._ _  
__My one wish is that we can see_ _  
__each other again soon._

_I love you, my sunflower._

_Best wishes,_ _  
__your Hershel_

He set the card back in the flowers.

“Me too, Hershel,” he muttered to himself. “Me too.”


End file.
